Our topsails reef'd and filled away,
All snug aloft we know,
Despite the storms we'll still be gay,
Among our friends below.
Come gather round and listen, then,
With spirits warm and true;
Here's a health to all the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too.

Here's a health to all the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too,
Here's a health to all the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too.

May the darksome eye of loveliness,
And that of ocean's ray,
Shed only tears of happiness
Forever and for aye.
Fill up, tho' far away from home,
And foreign scenes we view,
We cherish still the Norfolk girls,
And the Portsmouth maidens, too.

May the cheek whereon reposes
Emotion young and dear,
Still wear the hue of roses
Thro' each succeeding year.
We'll drink to by-past scenes, and hope
Some day again to view,
The lovely girls of Norfolk, and
The Portsmouth maidens, too.

And if we never backward go,
Borne home on ocean's breast,
But find among the caves below
A sailor's place of rest;
Still ere we close our eyes and pass
Beneath the depths of blue,
We'll think of all the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too.

Should the foe appear before us,
To our guns we'll fondly cling,
While our stars are gleaming o'er us,
Shall their notes of freedom ring.
While life's warm stream is flowing,
Our eager pulses through,
We'll fight for home, the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too.

Fill up, fill up, yet once again,
Before we say goodnight,
From every glass its sweetness drain,
To friendship's steady light.
May peace around our kindred dwell,
All beings loved and true,
The lovely girls of Norfolk,
And the Portsmouth maidens, too.

Good night, good night, our pillows now
With pleasant thoughts we'll press,
And dream some hand rests on our brow,
Its slumbering to bless.
Amid delightful reveries
That fancy brings to view,
Perhaps we'll meet the Norfolk girls,
And Portsmouth maidens, too.

When the Alabama's keel was laid,
Ch: ROLL, Alabama, ROLL,
They laid her keel in Birkenhead,
Ch: ROLL, Alabama, ROLL!

Oh, she was built at Birkenhead,
She was built in the yard of Jonathan Laird.

And down the Mersey she rolled away,
And Britain supplied her with men and guns.

And she sailed away in search of a prize.
And when she came to the port of Cherbourg,

It was there she met the little Kearsarge.
It was there she met the Ke-arsarge.

It was off Cherbourg harbor in April, '65,
That the Alabama went to a timely grave.

It ofttimes has been told
How the British seamen bold
Could flog the tars of France so neat and handy oh!
But they never found their match
Till the Yankees did them catch
Oh, the Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy-oh!

The Guerrière so bold,
On the foaming ocean rolled,
Commanded by proud Dacres the grandee, oh!
With as choice a British crew
As a rammer ever drew,
Could flog the Frenchmen two to one so handy, oh!

When this frigate hove in view,
Says proud Dacres to his crew,
"Come, clear ship for action and be handy, oh!
On the weather gage, boys, get her,"
And to make his men fight better,
He gave to them gunpowder mixed with brandy, oh!

Then Dacres loudly cries,
"Make this Yankee ship your prize,
You can in thirty minutes, neat and handy, oh!
Twenty-five's enough I'm sure,
And if you'll do it in a score,
I'll treat you to a double share of brandy, oh!"

The British shot flew hot,
Which the Yankees answered not,
Till they got within the distance they called handy, oh!
"Now," says Hull unto his crew,
"Boys, let's see what we can do,
If we take this boasting Briton we're the dandy, oh!"

The first broadside we poured
Took her mainmast by the board,
Which made this lofty frigate look abandon'd, oh!
Then Dacres shook his head;
To his officers he said,
"Lord! I didn't think those Yankees were so handy, oh!"

Our second told so well
That their fore and mizzen fell
Which dous'd the royal ensign neat and handy, oh!
"By Georgel" says he, "we're done,"
And they fired a lee gun,
While the Yankees struck up Yankee doodle dandy, oh!

Then Dacres came on board
To deliver up his sword,
Which he was loath to lose, it was so bandy, oh!
"Oh, keep your sword," says Hull,
"For it only makes you dull;
Cheer up and let us have a little brandy, oh!"

Now, fill your glasses full,
And we'll drink to Captain Hull,
And merrily we'll push about the brandy, oh!
John Bull may boast his fill,
But let the world say what it will,
The Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, oh!